


Final Frontiers

by Stumblings



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stumblings/pseuds/Stumblings
Summary: Scrisis is an old crusty Turian bastard discharged from the Hierarchy. But he’s a damn good detective and even better with a gun. Perfect for the initiative forces and uncovering illegal activities within the Nexus. One fortunate evening, he stumbles upon a fierce engineer , Kess Adams, in the middle of fire fight with the kett. Desperate for help, he takes the talented woman under his wing to expose outlaw intelligence within the Nexus.Kess Adams, a retired N7, with a singular mission... to find her wife, Nakmor Cul. With Alec dead, her only hopes lay on the Ryder twins to fix mess Nexus leaders have created with the Krogan. However, with factions growing more tense across Andromeda, Kess is growing more desperate to find her only love. Scrisis, a turian she confronted on the battlefield of Shanxai, opens the opportunity for Kess to find her Krogan wife. Will the two grizzled war vets be able to set their differences aside to solve their issues ?





	1. Chapter 1

Engineer Kess Adams

 

Startled, I woke in my initiative issued bunk acutely aware that something was horribly wrong, something frightful, tearing at the back of my mind. Haunting my very consciousness. I could feel my heart jump and settle in the throat, making it impossible to swallow. Shiftly, I pulled myself together, shook my head to knock the grogginess from my eyes. Pulling the self-made bug netting aside, I planted my barefeet on the cold metallic floor. Ah, that’s better.

As my feet hit the cold floor, I felt the strange sense of terror that had disturbed my sleep, fade away. Resting my head in my hands, I groped vaguely into the nightmare- or more a dream; hopefully…it was a dream. Breathing in deeply, I released a laden sigh, I couldn’t localize the dream. Where did come from? Why was I disturbed by it? Lifting my head to peer out the window at Eso’s cool velvet night sky. I could remember the sound of a painful and sustained raucous beat. Harmonious, in a perfect bewitching manner. It had to be a beat I heard back on Earth, for I had never heard it in the Andromeda cluster.

The noise sounded like the high pitch noise of a steam calliope. Grading, obnoxious, but oddly familiar. Sighing, restlessly, I got up and slipped into my house slippers and light muslim bathrobe, still puzzled. Opening the cubicle window, the chilled night breeze caused me to pull my robes closer to my body. My head began to clear of it’s drowsiness, I walked over to the coffee machine nestled on the corner of my messy desk of abandoned schematic designs. I poured the freshly ground beans into the top of the well used machine. My mind was still distracted by the music, that noise, it seemed impossible to forget. It had come to an abrupt end , cut clean, like drumming in Earth’s old shanties always located outside the dump of the metropolitan cities. The coffee pot ‘ding’ caught my attention. It was a rare occasion to enjoy a fresh cup of coffee… well at least as fresh as 600 year old beans could taste. I inhaled the aroma of the vanilla and nutmeg, scent reminded me of home, often relaxing my frazzled mind. Smiling to myself I felt familiar flashes of my mother’s bakery which smelled of yeast, nutmeg and vanilla before the red sand dealers moved in. Bringing the metal cup to my lips, I took a deep breath, smiling to myself reminiscing when I felt a sudden jolt up my spine. It was then and only then, I knew what had disturbed me. It was the haunting sound of a woman screaming.

Dropping the mug, I ran ,thoughtlessly, out of my bunk, swiftly moving down the hard pounded dirt path to Site 2. Nearing the site, I caught site of a group of terrifying creatures assembled on the canyon wall, the number seemed to increase by the minute. They tightened into a frightening organic knot directly in front of our outpost. They made guttural mumbles of excitement forming a harmonious background for a horrendous screech of a woman’s scream. Quickly, I dodged the spray of bullets that flew pass me. I tucked myself tightly against a small shipping crate, tucking my head into my knees, covering my ear with my arm hoping to avoid the bullets. It seemed like forever before the bullets ceased and I cautiously peered around the corner of the crate.

There in the center of the them, Amanda, was at it again with fresh breath, releasing a blood curdling, helpless, screeching. It was wincing even from this distant. The Kett became every colonists nightmare. Unable to do anything, I continued to peer from behind my salvage. I had to wonder why the militia had not responded to the impending threat. The creatures, frustrated, grabbed the frightened biologist by the cuff of her uniform and violently shook her.

My thoughts turned frantic, who are they and what do they want? Amanda, now started to convulse, struggle against her capture. She seized and thrashed back and forth, digging her nails into their tough sickly exoskeleton. She acted possessed, her screams carried an undertone of pure terror. It was ghastly. Out of habit, I reached for my pistol ; but only groped dirty muslim. Cursing, I quickly surveyed the surrounding area for…anything. Gritting my teeth, the damn closets equipment locker was a few clicks away. Frantically peering at the Kett, I tried to calculate my odds of living through the fucking night. Low, my odds were low, about twenty percent chance of reaching the locker. Damn, I bit down harder on my teeth, tightening my fist I need to get to Amanda.


	2. Chapter 2:

hapter 2: Kess Adams:

Finally, the sound of bullets discharging came from behind me. I could hear the empty shells hit the harden ground, the thud of feet, and the harsh whisper of command. Turning my head swiftly, I noticed two Apex officers hurriedly heading my direction. Struggling to make out their forms in the darkness, I could tell the tallest one was turian and the other, human. Must’ve been old Scrisis and Hamish, two odd balls, fresh of the Nexus.

Scrisis, was an old cranky bastard and despite his discharge from the Turian Hierarchy, was a damn good soldier, tolerating no nonsense. Hamish, I knew little of, he served with me once while on duty with the Alliance. Aside from that, he was a complete unknown. Gritting my teeth, eyes shifted ,nervously, from the kett to the officers. Unknowns made me hella uncomfortable.

Shaking my head, I thought ‘it’s just paranoia’. Since the Batarian raid, I’ve been jumpy, unfit for duty. My thoughts halted as another round of bullets crashed into the metallic shipping crate protecting my vulnerable form. My skin prickled, heart jolted, my teeth tightened. The damn scar above my eye burned with a distinct remembrance of a bullet wound. Tightening my fists into balls, I inhaled sharply, remember ole girl, focus, focus, focus.

I released my tension with an exhale, snorting angrily to myself. I’m a goddamn N7. These Kett bastards won’t jump me, no bastard would jump me, not yet, I always finished my missions. I will finish my mission.

I turned my attention back to the Apex officers. Scrisis advanced rapidly, busted mandible tight against his scared plated jaw, eyes glinted with determination. An old rabid war dog’s determination. An understandable determination. Both of us, were old grizzled vets. Hell, I blasted half his face off in The Contact War. Damn sure, wished I was 18 again.

Clank! The sound of metal hit metal jerked my attention back to the field.

Scrisis, threatened the Kett with another round of bullets. The Kett responded just as quickly, leaving my ass in the crossfire. Fools and hot heads, I’m not getting my ass blasted because idiots want to play bullet ping-pong. Fuck off! Curling my fist in frustration, I hit the side of the crate. The crate twisted around my fist. Damn it, all!

I could hear another screech rip through the biologist, peering around the corner I watched the Kett’s frustrated leader toss her like a rag doll before taking cover behind large rocks. Damn it, I’m still pinned behind the fuckin’ storage crate. Helpless, damn it… think ole’ girl, think.

A sick wet splattering noise erupted from the other side of the crate. Quickly, I peered around the wounded crate, Scrisis seemed to nail a Kett’s chosen in the melon. Head shot, god damn good aim.

Deep indigo exploded splattering over the dusty rocks, on the other Ketts’ pale exoskeletons, and Amanda’s freighted form. Causing, one of the remaining Kett to hiss at the screaming biologists, twiddling frantically with it’s radio transponder.

Bastard always had good aim. I rubbed the old bullet wound above my collar bone, unconsciously. Damn good aim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to practice Stream-of-consciousness for a more natural narration? 
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
